


there's no one else (who knows me like you do)

by sopaloma



Series: coexist [3]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Grief/Loss, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 04:29:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12856770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sopaloma/pseuds/sopaloma
Summary: This was the time for him to support his wife and his children, to help them with their grief and comfort them in any away he could.Still, the past can never truly be forgotten.a coda to "we used to be closer than this (is it something you miss?)"





	there's no one else (who knows me like you do)

**Author's Note:**

> title from The xx, "Our Song"
> 
> a third and probably final part to this series! i wanted to write about an older elliot and the relationship he and jug would have. i also wanted to address older jug's feelings on telling his kids the truth about his demons.
> 
> i've loved writing about this little fictional family and i hope you've enjoyed reading about them! reviews are appreciated

Hal's passing is so different from his father's. He had battled for years, had suffered through surgery and chemotherapy and even drug trials, in an effort to beat the cancer. The last years of his life were both a blessing and a curse - experiencing pain and depression, but also enjoying the last moments he would have with his family.

Two men, two completely different deaths. But the lack of similarities doesn't stop the anxiety from crawling up Jughead's throat and threatening to suffocate him.

It's the funeral that's making him feel this way, he knows. The black clothes, the somber faces - it brings back awful memories of the day they put his father to rest, they day he began to spiral out of control.

His method of coping is to surround himself with his family and keep his focus on comforting them, making them feel better in any way he can.

Elliot has been quiet all afternoon; has been quiet all month, in fact, the final deterioration of Hal's health taking its toll on him. They had done their best to keep Elliot informed. They didn't want to lie to him - he was a smart kid and had picked up on his mother's mood when Hal was first diagnosed. From the day he was told Elliot had spent as much time as he could with his Grandpa, going fishing with him and visiting him whenever he was too sick to leave the house.

It had made Jughead proud. He was the best kid - full of so much love and goodness - but now he had watched the burial of his grandfather. It crushed Jughead to know that his kid was having to go through this.

"Daddy, I'm tired," Emilia says softly, burying her face in Jughead's neck.

Jughead pulls her closer, presses a kiss against forehead. "It's okay, Em. You can sleep."

It's another reminder of that day. He thinks back to three year old Elliot, passed out in his arms, Jughead unwilling to let him go. His presence had been a source of comfort to him and he feels the same about his youngest daughter in this moment. With her in his arms, he's reminded of all the good in the world, and the melancholy hanging over him seems to fade away.

Betty joins them on the sofa, Evie beside her, holding her mother's hand. Evie had been particularly observant of Betty's emotions since Hal's death, had rarely left her side since they returned from the hospital the week before.

"You okay?" Jughead asks for what feels like the hundredth time that week.

His eyes flicker across her face, taking in the dark circles beneath her eyes and the new prominence of her cheekbones. She had definitely lost weight and it was beginning to worry him.

"I'm fine," she sighs and rests her head against his shoulder.

Evie climbs into her lap, head falling against her chest. Betty smiles faintly and lifts a hand to stroke her hair.

"Where's E?" she asks. "I haven't seen him around."

"He's with Jellybean in the kitchen. They've been talking for a while."

Elliot seemed to find some comfort in his aunt and Jughead was glad he had found someone to talk to. It made sense, really. Even in her early thirties, Jellybean was on his level, able to interact with a thirteen year-old with no problems at all. She influenced him a lot - his music tastes, the movies he liked to watch - and their close bond made Jughead endlessly happy.

"Daddy?"

Jughead is pulled away from his thoughts and looks down at his daughter with a smile.

"Yes, Vee?"

"Can you wake Em up? I want to go play."

Emilia's breaths fan across his skin as her body rises and falls in a steady rhythm. She's already fast asleep, wiped out by the day.

He smiles sadly and strokes his finger beneath Evie's chin. "We should let her sleep. She's smaller than you so she gets tired much faster. But I'm sure if you go find Jack he'll play with you."

She wrinkles her nose at his suggestion. Much to Betty and Veronica's disappointment, Jack and Evie hadn't become the best of friends. They were the closest in age, only a year between them, but they'd never been close.

"But Jack only wants to play Star Wars and I don't like Star Wars."

"I know, lets go find Elliot," Betty suggests, lifting Evie from her lap as she rises from the couch.

"Okay," she agrees easily, always happy to see her big brother, and takes Betty's hand again.

"Don't let Em nap for too long. She won't sleep tonight," Betty warns as they walk away.

"I won't."

He looks down at his sleeping daughter, lips pursed and eyelashes fluttering in her slumber. She was so beautiful, so like her mother. He would forever be surrounded by beautiful women; he was like Hal in that way. It was one of the few similarities they had shared.

He presses his cheek to the top of Emilia's head and closes his eyes. The anxiety still lingers, dark thoughts about a similar day ten years ago lurking in the corner of his mind, but he reminds himself that this is not the time for him to be concerned about his own problems. This was the time for him to support his wife and his children, to help them with their grief and comfort them in any away he could.

Still, the past can never truly be forgotten.

 

 

 

Jughead is in awe of how Betty handles her grief. She has her bad days - and she has her _awful_ days where she can barely make it an hour without crying - but she pushes through it all. Betty doesn't allow her grief to consume her, even when she wants to do nothing but lie in bed and cry for her father.

She tells him that it's because they all had time to come to terms with Hal's passing before it actually happened, but he thinks that's bullshit. No one was ever prepared to lose someone they love. She's just stronger than him. She always has been.

Elliot, on the other hand, is not coping so well.

He becomes reclusive. Their usually outgoing, talkative son begins to spend a lot of time in his room, door closed and music playing. JB tells him not to worry, that it's typical behavior for a teenager and _doesn't he remember what he was like at thirteen_. But even she gets worried when he stops reaching out to her, too.

The thing is, Jughead does remember what it was like to be thirteen, but Elliot isn't like Jughead. They liked a lot of the same things, he definitely has his sense of humor, and he's curious and inquisitive  like Jughead has always been, but Elliot was not an introvert. He was a bright-spot, a favorite among his peers, never without a friend. This closed-off, quiet version of his son was not typical at all.

It gets worse when his behavior towards his sisters changes. Despite the age difference, Elliot has always been devoted to the girls, fiercely protective and giving them his full attention whenever they demanded it.

"Are you gonna watch the movie with us, E?" Evie asks, tugging on Elliot's hand.

He pauses at the bottom of the staircase, looking over the scene in front of him. Emilia is stretched out across a beanbag on the floor, Evie's beanbag empty beside her. Jughead and Betty are curled up on the couch, the remote in Betty's hand as she waits to start the movie. There are bowls of snacks scattered across the coffee table, waiting for greedy hands to dive in.

It was a typical Saturday night in the Jones house, one that everyone got involved in, but tonight Elliot wanted no part of it.

"I'm tired, Vee. I'm gonna go to bed."

"But E," she whines, dragging out the initial. She pouting now, swinging their joined hands. "You always come to movie night. You've never missed it."

Jughead thinks for a second that his resolve is crumbling, persuaded by Evie's patented six-year-old guilt trip, but he doesn't relent.

"I know but I just don't want to. I'm sorry."

"But why not?" she whines again and Elliot's mood switches.

"I just don't feel like it!" he snaps, irritation is his voice and Evie drops his hand in shock. He's never spoken to her like that before.

"Hey!" Jughead says sharply and Elliot's head snaps up. His face has paled and a guilty look crosses his face. "Don't talk to your sister like that."

Elliot's turns back to Evie, his long black hair now covering the side of his face.

"I'm sorry, Vee. I shouldn't have yelled at you." He crouches down and takes both her hands in his. "Do you forgive me?"

"I forgive you," Evie says automatically, a bright smile now on her face. "So are you gonna sit with us?"

He sighs and rises to his full height again. "No tonight. But I promise I will next Saturday. Okay?"

Evie nods, bottom lip poking out again, clearly not happy with the outcome. "Okay."

Elliot ruffles her hair before making his way up the stairs without another glance at his family.

Betty starts up the movie and the girls settle into their beanbags. The exchange between his kids plays on his mind and he can't focus on the Disney movie onscreen.

"Do you think we should get someone to talk to him? Like a councillor?" he asks quietly.

Betty raises her head from his shoulder to look at him, brow wrinkled with concern.

"I don't know, Jug. It's been two months since dad died and he hasn't gotten any better. Maybe a councillor would be a good idea or maybe this is totally normal." She sighs and settles against him again. "I just wish I had the answer. I hate seeing him like this."

He strokes Betty's hair back from her temples, absentmindedly, eyes directed towards the TV in front of them but not paying attention.

"I'm gonna try talking to him. Maybe if I get him on his own, he'll tell me how he's feeling."

"I hope so. He's always been such a happy kid. I don't want that to change."

Jughead didn't either.

 

 

 

Jughead knocks loudly against the door, attempting to make himself heard over the music. Suddenly the music quietens, volume turned low, and Elliot yells, "Come in," through the door.

"Hey, E."

Elliot gives him a smile from his spot in the middle of his bed. It's small and half-hearted.

"What's up, dad?"

"Just wanted to check in," Jughead says, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. "See how you were doing."

"I'm okay," Elliot says automatically and Jughead frowns.

"Are you sure? Because you haven't been acting like yourself lately."

"I'm fine," he insists, his eyes now downcast.

Jughead places his hand on Elliot's knee. "If you ever need to talk about anything you can come to me. You know that right? I'm always here, kid."

Elliot nods but doesn't lift his gaze. Jughead sighs as he rises from the bed, resigned to the fact that he's not getting through to him tonight. He'd just try again in a couple of days, or try and catch Elliot when he was in a better mood.

"Dad?"

Jughead pauses with his hand on the door handle, turns back to his son.

"Yeah?"

"How can he just not be around anymore?" he asks in a quiet voice, eyes now trained on a loose thread on his jeans as he wraps it around his finger. "How can someone just leave like that?"

Jughead sits down on the bed again, next to Elliot this time so he can wrap his arm around his shoulders. Elliot immediately falls into the embrace, burying his head against his shoulder.

"I know it's hard, kid, but you have to believe that your Grandpa is in a better place now." He cups the back of Elliot's head. "Life got hard for him - he was in a lot of pain - but now... now I think he's somewhere enjoying the things he no longer could. Having a really good time."

"Maybe he's fishing somewhere," Elliot suggests, voice muffled by Jughead's shirt. "He always liked doing that. Or fixing up a car."

"I'm sure he's doing all of those things," Jughead agrees. "And I know he misses you as much as you miss him."

It's quiet for a while and Jughead just holds Elliot against him, lets him work through things however he needs to. He also relishes in the moment, a little bit. He's missed his boy.

"I'm sorry," Elliot says softly. "I know I've been mean these past few weeks. I'm just... sad. I'm really, really sad."

Jughead kisses the top of his head and pulls him closer. "It's okay, kid. Everyone gets sad sometimes."

 

 

 

Things are a little better after that. Elliot doesn't hole up in his room all of the time, spends more time with his sisters, goes out with his friends again.

Jughead is glad to see the change but their conversation in his bedroom bothers him, always lingering in the back of his mind. When he had told Betty, she had pointed out that this was the first time Elliot's ever had to deal with the death of someone he loves, and he was just processing in the only way he knew how.

It was a reasonable explanation but Jughead was still worried. Elliot is a Jones, and by nature, Jones men were solemn and bad at handling their emotions. He knew firsthand how destructive that behavior could be, the things that it could lead to, and he didn't want that for Elliot.

"What if he turns out like me?" Jughead's heart sinks as soon as the words leave his mouth. "What if he turns out like my dad?"

"You know how nature vs. nurture works, Jug. Maybe you are pre-disposed to struggle with addiction and depression but your upbringing was part of it, too." Betty cups his face in her hand. "And Elliot didn't grow up like you did - you've made sure of that. He's always had a home, he's always known that he's loved."

"I know, Betts, but what if it's not enough?"

"Then we'll help him," she says firmly. "But I'm not going to worry about that unless it happens. For now, we just need to be here for him."

Jughead nods and releases a heavy sigh. "You're right. I need to stop stressing about 'what if's' and support him."

Betty smiles and leans forward to kiss him. She rests her forehead against his as she pulls away, her eyes closed and a smile still tugging at her lips.

"You're the best father, Juggie," she tells him softly and when she pulls back to look at him, her eyes are glassy with emotion. "I'm so glad I decided to procreate with you," she adds with a little laugh.

He laughs with her. "God, me too, Betts. You have no idea."

 

 

 

Jughead settles into the seat across from Elliot, huge waffle cone in hand, as big as the one his son is trying to eat before the ice-cream melts. He'd definitely inherited Jughead's appetite, his cone piled high with three different ice-cream flavors.

Jughead takes a bite of the mint chocolate chip. "So _good_ ," he groans. 

"I know," Elliot grins, a drip of ice-cream sliding down his chin.

Jughead grabs a napkin to wipe it away, surprised when Elliot doesn't shy away from the gesture in embarrassment. He feels nostalgic almost, for a time when Elliot was so little he always needed his dad to clean him up or help him out. He's independent in so many ways now. He misses being needed by his son.

"So I wanted to talk to you," Jughead begins carefully.

Elliot wasn't stupid. Four out of the five people in their family loved to eat so impromptu ice-cream trips weren't unusual, but trips for just the two of them were rare. He had to know something was up.

He looks up, their eyes meeting. "Okay..."

"I know you've been feeling sad lately, about your grandpa. Losing someone is never easy. And I want you to know that you're not alone, E. I was... I've been..." Jughead struggles to form a sentence as the memory of his father's passing comes to the forefront of his mind. He pauses, takes a breath. "Do you remember your Grandpa Jones?"

Elliot shakes his head. "That's your dad, right?"

"Yeah," Jughead nods. "Well Grandpa Jones died when you were very young - you were only three years old - and it was a very bad time for me. I was very sad and very angry, and I didn't handle things in the best way."

His eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean?"

"I did a lot of stupid things," Jughead replies. "I hurt a lot of people, including your mom. And I hate thinking about that time, even now."

"It's okay, dad," Elliot assures him. "You're allowed to be sad, right? Everybody is."

"You're right," Jughead agrees. "We're all allowed. But sometimes feeling that way can cause us to do horrible things, to treat people badly, and that's not okay."

Elliot's eyes fall downcast as he asks quietly, "Like when I yelled at Evie?"

"Kind of," Jughead answers softly. "You shouldn't yell at your sister, but you apologized and made things better. Sometimes, though, we can be so angry and upset and we keep all of our feelings locked inside. And then they come out all at once and we end up hurting people around us."

"Is that what you did? To Mom?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. I was so sad about your Grandpa dying but I didn't tell anybody and I let the sadness grow until I couldn't take anymore. And that's not a good way to be, kid." He levels Elliot with a serious look. "You need to talk about what you're feeling. You need to tell people when you're sad or you're mad. And you also need to let people help you and make you feel better."

"And you did that?" he asks quietly. "And you stopped feeling sad about Grandpa?"

"I'll always be sad about Grandpa, E," he replies honestly, mouth quirked up in a sad smile. "He was my dad and I loved him and I'll always miss him. But that's okay because I tell people now. If I'm having a bad day and I'm thinking about him, I'll tell your mom and she'll talk to me about him and make me remember the good times."

Elliot smiles. "Mom does that with me, too. She's always telling funny stories about Grandpa Cooper."

"And I bet that makes you feel happier, right?" Elliot nods. "Your mom's always been good at that - making people happy."

"I don't feel so sad anymore," Elliot admits before biting into his cone. "I still miss Grandpa but it doesn't hurt the way it used to. And I do talk to people sometimes... it's just hard," he says quietly.

"I know, E. I find it hard, too. Because you and I, we're a lot alike. So take it from me - when you're feeling down you _need_ to talk to people. Don't keep it all inside. It'll only make you feel worse."

Elliot nods, taking the information in. They sit in silence as they finish off their cones, watching the traffic pass by outside.

"Hey, dad?" Jughead looks over at Elliot. "I know you said you did some bad things but... I still wanna be like you. You're never mean and you help all of us and you always make Mom smile, even though you still feel sad about your dad." He shrugs. "I think that makes you the best and I wanna be like that."

Jughead smiles and leans across the table to push Elliot's hair back from his forehead, warmth spreading through his chest.

"Thanks, Bug. That means a lot."

 

 

 

"Are you sure we have to do a pajama movie night?" Jughead murmurs against Betty's neck, lips kissing a path along the length. 

She smiles and spins around to kiss him properly, lips pressed to his and tongue sliding between his lips. He moans into her mouth, chasing after her lips as she pulls away.

She gives him a look. "You know we do, Jug. We promised."

"Some promises are made to be broken," he argues, hands clutching her hips as he backs her towards their bed.

She falls back with a giggle and Jughead swallows the sound as he settles between her legs. They kiss slowly, bodies moving instinctively against each other. His skin is smooth beneath his palm as his hand slides beneath her silky pajama shirt and along her stomach.

Jughead grinds against her leg, already half-hard, and as Betty drags her foot along his calf to wrap her legs around him, the sound of quick, tiny footsteps echoes out in the hall.

Betty sighs and pushes him away. Jughead falls back against the bed with a groan, hand still buried beneath her shirt and tracing her warm, flushed skin.

"You know they'll both fall asleep an hour into the movie and then we'll have the rest of the night to ourselves," Betty promises, hand resting on his chest as she drops one last kiss to his lips.

He smirks. "You've got this all figured out, haven't you, Betts?"

She rolls her eyes and taps his chest. "Come on, old man. We have two little girls who are demanding to be snuggled."

 

 

 

Betty settles the popcorn bowl between the girls as she climbs into her side of the bed. Jughead wraps his arm around Evie as he reaches for the remote.

"Alright, is everyone ready?" he asks, smiling at his girls.

Evie and Emilia grin and nod, burrowing further beneath the comforter. They weren't often allowed in their parent's bed - movie night in mommy and daddy's bed was a special treat.

Betty smiles at him. "Start the movie, babe."

He presses play and watches the blue Disney title card appear onscreen. It was Evie's pick this week and once again she had chosen _Moana_. He'd seen the movie so many times now that he's pretty sure he could recite the dialogue.

As the movie begins there's a knock on the door. They look up to find Elliot stood in the doorway, in his pajamas.

"Can I... Can I watch, too?" he asks quietly, unsure.

"Of course, E," Betty grins and pats the blanket thrown across the bottom of the bed. "There's a spot right here for you."

Elliot smiles and launches himself onto the bed, making his sister's giggle as he wriggles around and tries to get comfortable. He groans when he sees what's onscreen.

" _Moana_? Again? Come on, Vee."

"It's my favorite!" she cries and pokes her tongue out at her brother.

Elliot shakes his head in amusement and smiles at his sister before settling into a comfortable position. The room grows quiet as everyone quickly becomes engrossed in the movie; everyone except Emilia, who is already asleep against Betty's side.

He looks down at Elliot - his eldest, his boy, his Bug - long body stretched across the blanket, messy hair pointing every which way. He smiles.

He was a strong kid, a good kid. Jughead couldn't ask for anything more.

 


End file.
